One Year
by Allaizabel
Summary: Set after 5:10 Team free will work to hunt down the rest of the horsemen but when an offer is made that Dean can't refuse, everything changes. But at the end of it all, will it be enough to stop the apocalypse? Destiel, Sabriel
1. Chapter 1

Summary: In the months following Jo and Ellens deaths team free will are having a hard time finding the rest of the horsemen. Then Dean is made an offer he can't refuse. One year. One year as Deaths apprentice, or someone he loves dies. His acceptance leads to a year filled with experiences strange even to the Winchesters, with love sometimes the only thing pulling (read: violently threatening) him through. But at the end of everything is it enough to stop the apocalypse? Enough to stop Lucifer?

Rated M for language and violent/sexual content.

* * *

Only one month had passed since Ellen and Jo were killed. Their deaths were like a raw wound amongst those that remained, and upon unspoken agreement, the women were never mentioned. One time Sam Winchester; the youngest brother, mentioned Ellens homemade chili in passing and he was instantly exiled into sigil duty. The wards on Bobby Singers house needed repairing and the angel sigils needed adjusting to allow Castiel free access to and from the house. Because even if he was as close to human as anyone had ever seen him, he was still an angel.

Dean watched this business with the same detachment that he observed everything with in recent days. His brother Sam has asked him if he was sick, Bobby called him an idjit and put him to work in the auto yard, and Cas…well Cas just gave him small, sad glances that cut deeper into him than any words the others had to offer. Words like "they died a hunters death", or "they did it to give us a chance", or the worst yet, "at least it was quick, which is a lot more than we can say about most hunters." Because it was a lie. Sure, Dean thought, maybe the explosion itself was quick and painless, but the lead up to it was anything but. Jo bled to death slowly, in agony for every one of her last breaths, and Ellen had to watch her daughter suffer that pain.

So no, it wasn't these meaningless, if well meant words that struck Dean. It was the glances; the swift flick of eyes bluer than blue over his face that cut him to the quick. Because Castiel didn't glance. Because the mighty, righteous, angel of the lord wasn't timid or cowed like the swift looks suggested, and Dean felt the pain in those blue eyes every time they avoided his gaze instead of connecting. Because Cas didn't glance when he could stare.

So even though Dean knew something was up with the angel, it still took him weeks (no one _ever _accused Dean of being quick to catch on) to realize that someone may be having a harder time accepting Ellen and Jo's deaths than he was. He was a human, and grew up from a very young age coping with death and sacrifice. It surrounded him in the life he and his brother lived. But it was the angel, the _angel_ that was new to the very human emotion of grief.

Dean knew Cas has suffered before. He saw it on the angels' face every time he heard of; or worse yet, was the cause of one of his siblings death. But never before had he experienced it to such a human extent.

So it was upon this realization that Dean decided it was time to pull himself together, because if anyone was going to pull _Cas_ together it was going to be Dean.

After dinner finished one night, and Bobby and Sam were quietly talking in the living room, planning their next move no doubt. Dean quietly excused himself and wandered into the wreck yard under the dim evening light knowing that Cas would follow him. Following Dean had become something of a passtime for Castiel in the previous weeks.

Dean popped off the lid of one beer and only hesitated for a moment before he did a second. He never knew what Cas might accept to eat or drink now that he was so close to being human. Sure enough, the falling angel took the beer by the neck and mimicked how Dean was leaning into the nearest junk car.

"You've come to a decision." Said Cas. Not a question, but a statement of Deans state of mind.

Dean took a swig from his bottle but didn't look at his companion. "Yeah I have."

When he didn't elaborate Cas set down his own drink and angled to stare at Dean, the first stare he'd given in weeks. "You have decided to place the blame where it rightfully belongs."

And hell, if Dean hadn't seen that one coming.

"What?" he half shouted.

"The deaths of Joanna and Ellen Harvelle could have been prevented if I hadn't been incapacitated by my brother and the demon. It is a logical conclusion that the fault of their deaths lie on me."

"Jesus Cas, is that what this has been about?

"I don't know what you refer to."

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, because honestly if he had seen this coming he would've given Cas a talk weeks ago. "You know, the looks you've been giving me? Like one of your dick brothers killed your dog."

"But it wasn't a dog that Lucifer killed, it was Ellen and Jo-"

"Dammit Cas it was a metaphor!"

The angel averted his eyes at that, adopting the stance that Dean had come to associate as the 'dressing down' look.

"That's what this has been about then? You've been waiting for me to blame you and then what? Shout, throw punches, tell you to leave?"

Cas glanced sideways at Dean but didn't adjust his stiff posture. "I had considered all of those options yes." Damn if the guy wasn't honest.

"Cas I…" This was turning into a chick-flick moment, Dean just knew it. He could smell it miles away. "Man it's not on you. What happened to Jo and Ellen is all on Lucifer and Meg and her fucking hellhounds. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Cas looked like he wanted to comment on the irrationality of beating oneself up but thankfully it was one of those times he just took Deans comment in passing and focused on what he was trying to get across.

"Listen, you're running low on mojo right?"

Cas nodded tentatively at this as if assessing his 'mojo' status.

"Yeah, so if you had've tried to get Ellen and Jo out of there chances are you would've been trapped too, and then Sam and I would've had to come back in to get you out and by then the bombs would've gone off and we'd all be chattin it up with your Dad."

"I never thought of it that way."

"Of course you didn't. But that's why you've got me, I dumb it all down a little and make it easy for your massive angel brain to comprehend."

"Dean, I do not believe you are lacking intelligence as you allude to."

"Well thanks Cas, that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me." Dean gave the angel a wry grin and was glad his point seemed to be made. Cas didn't look so down anymore, or at least he was staring with the fierce intensity Dean had become accustomed to.

"Will you two stop flirting before I have to burn my eyes out?"

Dean chucked his beer bottle at Sam in irritation. "Bitch."

"Jerk. But actually Bobby found something, he wants you back at the house."

Turns out the 'something' that Bobby found was really nothing but small bouts of freak weather. Stuff like electrical storms, winds stronger than normal, and hail in August scattered across the country, but nothing that screamed 'horsemen'.

Dean leaned back in his chair and tossed a balled-up map at the wall. "This is bullshit!" he called. "If we take the time to check out _every single one_ of these potential omens we're going to hunting down horsemen until-"

"Until what? The apocalypse?" Sam looked up from his laptop for what must've been the first time in hours and glanced around the room.

"Man, how can he just crash wherever?"

He was referring to Cas who was currently passed out on the sofa, drooling ungracefully on one of Bobbys books.

Dean glanced to the angel, trying not to feel concern that Cas was asleep. It was becoming more commonplace the further he fell to humanity but it was still disconcerting to see.

"I don't know, has something to do with losing his mojo I guess."

"Yeah, it's just strange to see an angel sleep. But uh, you guys both seem better?"

Dean gave his brother a glare, because he was not opening that can again. "Yeah, time to get back on the job." Then he got up and headed upstairs to his room, no closer to finding another horseman than they had been at the start of the day.

* * *

So this is chapter one! I've decided it's about high time I contribute to the world of Supernatural fanfiction. If there's any interest I'll definitely continue with this story.


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to add the disclaimer last chapter so here it is:

Disclaimer: I don't own the Supernatural characters or anything related to it, nor do I own the song lyrics borrowed from ACDC in this chapter.

* * *

The next morning was the first time in awhile that Dean got up before noon. Now that he'd spoken with Cas he felt lighter somehow, as if telling the angel that it wasn't his fault also took away the self-imposed blame from his own shoulders.

Going downstairs around nine he was surprised by the smell of a proper breakfast cooking on the stove. Usually he made do with toast and nutella. Cause there was no way he was _ever_ touching the yogurt and granola that Sam insisted on eating.

That shit would kill you.

He was even more surprised to find it was Sam and Cas doing the cooking.

"What's this for Sammy?"

Sam whirled around from the stove, bitch-face number thirteen already in place; the one that was wary of potential mocking. He clenched a pair of tongs in one hand and a pan of bacon in the other.

Dean would've laughed at the sight of Sam cooking breakfast; because Sammy _always_ broke shells into the scrambled eggs, except he was distracted by a flash of yellow that basically glowed like the fucking sun.

"Oh Jesus, what did you make him wear?"

Cas obviously took the 'him' to mean himself as he turned from whatever breakfast task he was focused on.

Sam was almost crying with laughter, the pan of bacon was jiggling in his hand (violently jiggling Dean might add, he feared for that bacons lifespan) and Dean was gaping, because Cas the mighty angel of the lord was dressed in a frilly yellow apron that had pink flowers stitched across it.

"What?" asked Sam. "I think it suits him, and he didn't want his coat to get dirty so this seemed like a good option."

Cas for his part looked entirely apathetic and Dean figured it was because the angel never did seem to have a sense of gender-appropriate clothing. He didn't even have enough sense to take off his trench coat before putting on the apron for god's sake.

"Cas for fucks sake." Dean muttered then untied the back of the hideous apron and slipped it over the angel's head. He gave the thing a nasty look and launched it across the room until he could find an appropriate time for burning it. It hurt his masculinity just by thinking about it.

Cas turned his piercing gaze on him and continued mixing (was that pancake batter?) whatever he had in the bowl. "I do not understand your anger with that clothing item."

"Just don't wear shit Sam gives you, it can't be trusted."

Speaking of Sam, the little bitch had his back turned to Dean as he "focused" on frying up breakfast. Dean's eyes narrowed at the trembling of his brother's shoulders and a thought suddenly struck him. Sam being the total geek he was _always_ had his phone on him. A phone that was capable of taking photos.

"Give me your phone."

"What? No!"

"Sam, give me your phone."

"Dean I said no."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE DAMMIT."

"…are eggs supposed to look like that?"

And suddenly a peaceful Saturday morning turned into the mother of all breakfast meltdowns as Sam flung the bacon out of his pan while trying to avoid Dean. Cas at least had the common sense to remove the pan of eggs from the burner before they were completely lost and he calmly returned to mixing the pancake batter.

Dean shouted his triumph as he snatched Sam's phone from his brothers defending hand but promptly shrieked like a girl when the forgotten bacon unstuck from the ceiling and smacked him in the face.

"HOLY SHIT."

"OH JESUS DEAN."

"IT BURNS."

"RUN THE WATER QUICK."

"MY EYEEESSSSSS."

"CAS STOP MIXING THE FUCKING PANCAKE BATTER AND HELP."

"_WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS GOING ON HERE?"_

Dean froze mid-panic, his head forcefully shoved under the tap by Sam's hand. The hand not clutching the now-empty frying pan.

"Hey Bobby."

"I leave you boys for half an hour and this is what I return to? It's a miracle you didn't burn down the goddamned house!"

Cas was calmly walking away, apparently believing he had no part in this conversation. Dean knew that Bobby thought otherwise.

"And where do you think you're going angel-boy?"

Cas halted and pivoted on the spot, recognizing the reprimanding tone that Bobby used. God only knew how many times he had heard that tone used on the Winchesters.

"And what were you doing while these two knuckleheads tried to destroy my kitchen?"

"I was preparing pancakes."

"Uh-huh, a likely story. Now get in there and help them clean up."

Dean decided it was time that he spoke up; after all he was gravely bacon-wounded and shouldn't be expected to clean up after Sam's messes. "Uh Bobby, I'm just going to go to the nearest iHop and pick up bre-"

"You get down on your knees and scrub that bacon grease off of my floor boy. Don't make me tell you twice."

"Yes sir." So he grabbed a cloth and started scrubbing because no one crossed Bobby Singer.

Sam was looking smug, and Dean thought he was going to get away without a telling off. He was already wiping down the counter and trying to salvage the eggs, looking fully productive to try and avoid Bobby's wrath. It almost worked too.

Until Bobby wheeled over his bare toes on his way into the living room.

And suddenly Dean wasn't so bitter about scrubbing the floor, now he had company. Company that hollered in pain about the indignity of it all, but company nonetheless.

* * *

"Now since you three idjits are done causing the apocalypse in my kitchen-"

"We like to call it Armabacon."

Sam gave him bitch-face number eight. "Dude what? That doesn't even work."

"Sure it does, you just have to pronounce the 'a' in bacon with kind of an 'eh' sound and-"

"Shut your pie hole and listen up."

"Well now I'm not going to be able to listen because you mentioned pie."

"Dean!"

"Yes sir, shutting the pie hole, got it."

They were gathered in the living room once again to decide what they were going to do about the potential omens.

"I think our best option is to split up and check out the more serious incidents." Bobby continued. "We can afford to ignore the wind and rain storms. Let's focus on the electrical storms, flooding, and hail."

"I'm with Cas."

"Wow Dean thanks for considering me." And bitch face number twenty-three it was. Dean thought they were getting through them quicker than usual today.

"You smacked me in the face with _bacon_. A man does not easily forget being smacked in the face with bac-"

"Dean just take your angel and head over to Laramie, Wyoming."

"Alright, but hail in Wyoming can't be all that rare, even if it is summer?"

"Hail the size of golf balls ain't normal no matter the time of year son."

"Touché. Alright! Let's go Cas." Dean grabbed his jacket, checked to make sure he had everything and sauntered out the door while Cas trailed after him.

* * *

It was three hours into the ten-hour drive to Laramie and Dean was beginning to doubt his choice in companionship. Cas was strangely pensive, he kept staring out the window and every once in awhile Dean could've sworn the angel was staring at him. But every time he looked over, Cas was back to staring at the passing scenery.

"Dean, I find myself…worried."

Ah, finally, the silence was broken.

"Yeah? What about?"

Cas looked stricken and Dean was starting to get a little worried himself.

"It seems that Sam wished to travel with you and I fear that I have taken his place."

Dean instantly relaxed. Cas was just being angsty for no reason as usual. "Man don't worry about it, seriously. He may act all moody but Sammy's actually thrilled."

"He's happy?"

"Yeah, I mean. It's been so long since we've done anything productive and now that we're doing something again…well he's just happy that I've started to move on again."

"You mean after Joanna and Ellen-"

"Yeah Cas after that."

Cas fell silent after that and Dean felt a bit like a douche, but just because he was moving on didn't mean he wanted it mentioned all the time.

In order to break up the silence which Dean felt was getting a little oppressive, (Not because he was feeling guilty about shutting Cas up. Of course not.) he punched in one of his cassette tapes and cranked up the volume.

'_Are you deaf, you wanna hear some more. We're just talkin' about the future. Forget about the past. It'll always be with us-'_

"Right there Cas, words of wisdom from ACDC."

"This is that band you play often?"

Dean grinned at his companion, slowly but surely Cas was recognizing Dean's music tastes. "Yeah, you know this one right?" he searched through songs until he came to '_You Shook Me All Night Long"._

Cas listened through the intro and then grinned when the lyrics started. "She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I've ever seen."

Dean laughed out loud and slapped the steering wheel with both hands. "No way do you know the words!"

Cas grinned and a low chuckle escaped him, almost unheard by Dean. And the angel laughing was definitely added to Dean's list of things that were awesome.

Dean cranked the volume some more and sang along. "Takin more than her share, had me fighting for air. She told me to come but I was already there-" he glanced at Cas again to see if he was following and sure enough he was bobbing his head lightly to keep time with the music.

This was going to be an awesome road trip.


End file.
